


squeeze

by Rrrowr



Series: Teen Wolf Drabbles [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Choking, Consensual Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 21:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rrrowr/pseuds/Rrrowr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter lets Stiles choke him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	squeeze

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1001cranes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001cranes/gifts).



> we both know this was your fault, but i love you for it anyway. life ruiner.

"You'd let me," Stiles says, echoing Peter's words with a dry sort of distrust. He doesn't believe Peter's promise yet, but he's already sitting on Peter's chest — he's already got his fingers knuckling over the bridge of Peter's sternum. The temptation is there, always, to simply take what Peter seems to want to give him.

"You want to," Peter replies, voice a steady (irritating) calm. "So go ahead."

Peter lifts his chin by a fraction, exposing the length of his throat. It's a thick, bare column of muscle above the muted black collar of his shirt. Stiles stares for a long time, following the lines of it with his thumb before he finds the place where Peter's pulse jumps up to greet him. Stiles is aware of Peter watching him — dark eyes lidded heavily under a fan of darker lashes. He's waiting and wants to see what Stiles will do — if he'll do anything. Stiles is happy to make him wait a bit longer.

Necks are harder than they're given credit for. Everyone is always talking about how they're so fragile, how easily injured they are in accidents, and how something as simple as sleeping weird can leave them stiff. But necks have all sorts of things in them — muscle, cartilage, bone, tendon, layers and layers that mean that it takes actual effort to squeeze it all shut so nothing can get through. More so with a werewolf, Stiles thinks — especially one like Peter, who's dangerous down to his toes.

Stiles wraps both hands around Peter's neck and feels the way Peter's ribs stop and stutter underneath him. He wonders if the ropes binding Peter to the bed will hold, and then soon realizes that he doesn't much care if they do. Lately, Stiles has liked taking risks and pushing limits — has liked pushing Peter to his limits. Like this, like now: the limit where he's _letting_ Stiles do this.

Peter swallows, and Stiles feels it roll under his thumbs. "Get on with it," Peter says.

Peter's words cut off with a wet noise as Stiles bears down, and a little smile stretches out Stiles' mouth as he says, "Shut up, Peter."

The bracket of his fingers slide under Peter's jaw and lock there. He can feel the tension under his hands when Peter's body starts to fight him off. It crests and falls in waves, giving a little more each time as Peter remembers and purposefully lets himself — _lets_ himself be choked.

Stiles thought that he'd be irritated by being allowed this chance like he'd never have the strength to just take it for himself, but he isn't. Fuck no, it's exactly the opposite. Peter's so strong — even now as a rigid, straining thing between Stiles' knees — and the fact that he's giving this power to Stiles to the point where his breath is aborted little gulps and his eyes are dipping slowly closed and his fingers are curling soft against the bedspread... Stiles is harder than he's ever been in his life.

Stiles lets it go on for much longer than he should, perhaps, squeezing and squeezing until his fingers hurt with the effort. He wonders if Peter would let Stiles kill him. He wonders then if going that far would make him cream his pants. (Maybe, he admits to himself. Maybe.)

Peter's so very pale by the time Stiles lets go, and there's a circle of beautiful bruises around his neck. Dots where Stiles' fingertips dug in. A darker burst of color where something had given way suddenly under his weight — a bone, maybe. Stiles kisses Peter before he can see them disappear. He feels the life move back into Peter's body. Feels his chest expand broadly with fresh breath. Feels Peter's lips respond numbly then with greater fervor. Stiles laughs, touching Peter's throat.

"What's s'funny?" Peter asks. His tongue is thick, and his voice is raw. Speaking takes him effort apparently, and Stiles delights in this.

"That you let me do this," Stiles tells him at once, "and you're going to let me do it again."

Peter's lashes dip. He breathes deeply through his nose and tilts his face toward Stiles' in a way that suggests that it's unconscious. "Oh? Why's that?"

"Because you want me to," Stiles says. "Because you like it, and now I know that."


End file.
